


A Willow Cabin at Your Gate

by DarthSayahSwag



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: As told through journals, Crossdressing, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-25 19:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSayahSwag/pseuds/DarthSayahSwag
Summary: After her father died, Cora Mills made her daughter pretend to be ‘Reginald’ the sole son and heir to Henry Mills in order to keep their wealth. As a young lord, ‘Reginald’ is expected to marry well. When the Blanchards invite ‘Reginald’ as a potential suitor for Emma, Cora Mills is all too happy to accept and pushes her daughter to court the young woman.When Emma learns Regina’s secret, how will she take it? Can they make this into an opportunity for them both to get the life they want?This story is told through journal entries kept by Emma and Regina.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragoon23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoon23/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Willow Cabin at Your Gate [Protostar Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482943) by [Dragoon23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoon23/pseuds/Dragoon23). 

** _April 17, 1788_ **

Mother was absolutely fussy today. She must have adjusted my shirt and my collar several times, muttering about making sure I continued to look my part. 

I do not know why she is so fussy. As I glanced in the mirror behind her, I still looked every bit as I have since daddy died. My face handsome, perhaps much handsomer than any of the other lords we would see today. My hair tied back into a tail. I might be shorter than many of the men, but I see how women often look at me. 

They desire me, not knowing that I am not the young lord I pretend to be. 

My costume, that of a lord’s, is always finely made, often altered from my father’s old wardrobe. The special corset my mother makes me wear does a very good job at hiding any of the feminine features of my body. 

“The Blanchards won’t even see what’s coming.” My mother muttered as she adjusted my collar again. She hates the Blanchards. She sees them as yet another obstacle in her climb to power. (Though really, it might just be due to old Leopold Blanchard’s rejection of her, something that should never be mentioned in her presence.)

“We may be a newly landed house in this place, but that does not give them the right to look down on us.” Mother reminded me as we rode in the carriage. “We Millses were once related to royalty and have far more decorum than even a house as old as the Blanchards, especially after that Mary Margaret married that shepherd boy.” 

“Yes, Mother.” I have to agree with whatever she says. The scar on my lip is a good reminder for the temper she keeps behind closed doors. Though I rolled my eyes at the reminder of our lineage. Banishment made us commoners until my grandfather was able to buy us some lands and titles in this place. Mother herself came from a different house from here, one even smaller than the Mills.

“Be sure to spend some time with that girl.” She ordered. 

I sighed. I know who she meant. Emma Swan Blanchard-Nolan. What a silly name! Her mother, ever the romantic giving her such a foolish middle name. Her ‘Little Swan’ I’d once heard her call her daughter. I smiled to myself. There is something about the anger that flashes across Little Swan’s face anytime I use her silly nickname against her. 

Mother wanted me to spend time with her more and more now, having heard rumors that the Blanchards were getting more and more desperate to marry Emma off. At 21, they were having trouble getting any of the other houses interested in her, many put off by her common-born father. 

My mother thought of her marriage to me as the ultimate joke on the Blanchards. 

As we arrived, mother adjusted my collar again. I batted her away. 

“No one has figured me out mother, I doubt they will today.” My mother tapped my cheek lightly with her palm. I may have flinched a little. 

“Stay away from that Robin.” She told me. “He is far too interested in you for a young lord.” 

I rolled my eyes. Robin was only a friend. She was convinced he was more interested in other men than any of the ladies we spent time with. Particularly me, and the last thing we needed, as I am often reminded, is for someone to discover what I really am just because I got too close to them. 

I would never tell her she was right, about Robin, knowing that he sometimes sneaks out, spending money on some of the young men that roamed the streets. He’d once taken me out, I think, testing me to see if I would be interested. I’d bought off a woman that night to keep up appearances, taking her back to a room, and giving her more coin when she’d figured out why I wasn’t interested. 

I sometimes went back to see her, just to have someone to talk to. Ruby likes my visits as it gives her a break. 

I went to look for Kathryn once we arrived. It was her party after all, having just been engaged to Frederick. I needed to keep up appearances, congratulating the happy couple. 

It was just my luck that Emma happened to be nearby. 

-_R. Mills_

_ **April 17, 1788** _

Kathryn’s engagement party was rather nice. 

If only that boor, Reginald didn’t come around. Ugh, he is always so smarmy. He is more stuck up than even some of my relatives are. 

“Little Swan.” I did my best glare as he teased me. His annoying smirk only grew. Ugh he makes me so mad! 

“You look quite wonderful this evening.” He isn’t slick, I saw the way his eyes glided down my finely made dress. Then he dared to grimace and smirk at me as if he found the dress ugly.

....Though I must confess that I didn’t like the dress either. Mary Margaret picked it out for me. (I refuse to call her mother after today’s argument.)

I don’t want to marry. Especially not some lord who will only look at me as a babymaker. I’m still not even sure if I want children. “As a lady, that is not your choice!” was one of Mary Margaret’s arguments. Which is a lot, coming from my own mother who married a man of her choice. The only reason I am not getting a choice is because she looks at me as a way to make up for the disgrace her marriage brought to the Blanchards. 

She doesn’t say it and I’m sure none of the families she tries to get interested in me would ever say it to her face, but I know. They don’t like that my father is a shepherd. Even if he is a truly kind man, and far better than any of these lords and ladies could ever be.

“Might I entice you into joining me for a walk?” Reginald asked me. My friends watched us. Elsa gestured behind Reginald’s back, nodding and waving me off. 

Ugh. It didn’t help that they all find him attractive. “But he’s so handsome!” Elsa once told me as I complained about him and his smirks and how he is so rude.

“If we must.” I walked off, refusing his offered arm. He hurried to keep up with me, still smirking once he was walking beside me. 

I admit that he is, indeed, rather handsome. Almost pretty for a man. His features are strong, dark, sharp. I hear his family, the Millses, came from Italy and then Spain, something about how they were nobility banished for some disagreement with some past spanish king. They’d changed their family name once they arrived in London, in an attempt to distance themselves from their past. Here, they were making a name for themselves, aided on by that terrible woman who is Reginald’s mother. 

I shuddered to imagine having her for a mother-in-law.

“Little Swan.” I rolled my eyes. He’d overheard my mother say it once, once! and he couldn’t let the nickname go. 

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

“That I would much rather be having a conversation with anyone else.” 

He frowned at me. I maybe felt a little guilty about it. Then he smirked one of those annoying smiles again. “Must you wound me with your harshness?” He mock-palmed his chest. Throwing a hand over his forehead, dramatically. 

I tried very hard not to laugh. 

Okay, so maybe I do sometimes enjoy his company and don’t find Reginald a boor. I would never tell him that. Sometimes he is interesting, and he does offer a break from all of the boring conversation about weather and whose latest marriage to whom. 

“Come on.” He pulled me away and through the gardens, talking about some scientific discovery he read about recently.

Okay, so maybe he is smart and maybe he talks to me as if I’m not stupid sometimes. Sometimes because he often mocks me, and I can’t always tell when he is jesting, or trying to get a rise out of me. 

“That dress is really rather ugly.” 

Ugh. And he is back at being a boor again! 

.......He apologized with a white carnation he picked from the gardens. Perhaps I shall keep it and press it.

-_Emma Swan Blanchard-Nolan_


	2. Chapter 2

** _April 31, 1788_ **

I’ve seen Emma twice since Kathryn’s engagement party. Once, a week later at a salon being thrown by the oddball ‘Doctor’ Whale. He had such an odd mishmash of people at this one, I am not sure if I will accept another invite. 

Though I did have a rather enjoyable time, even if was made rather odd by the people present. I somehow ended up chatting with a hatmaker, a man by the name of Jefferson. He had his tools with him. He took my hat and made something new of it. He added a ribbon and some little flowers. I rather like what he did, perhaps I shall go to him from now on. 

Emma came by in passing. I managed to pull her aside from that foreign friend of hers, Elsa. (I believe I heard she hails from Denmark & is visiting her aunt for a few months.) 

“Surprised to see you without your mother hovering.” I told her. 

“Surprised to see you without yours doing the same.” 

“Touché little Swan, touché.”

She became quite flustered at being called that little nickname of hers. She crossed her arms, she glared at me. 

“Are you ever going to give that up?” 

“No, Little Miss Swan, I don’t think I ever will.” 

She huffed at me, turning to leave. I grabbed her before she could go off so angrily. I saw her glance at my hand in surprise. 

Crap. I had taken off my gloves on arrival. I don’t think I have ever touched Miss Swan so openly before. 

“Reginald.” 

I hate hearing that name. If only she knew. She had taken my hand in hers, pulling me away and into a private room. She shut the door and turned on me.

“Why are you always so frustrating?” 

“Is all of this just because of your little nickname?” I mocked. I always mocked. 

She was pacing, she seemed to be sorting something out. She seemed so angry, flustered. I watched her. What could she be thinking so hard about? Was this really about the little nickname? 

“You are just so—!” 

She never told me, just got into my space. She was very close, I could smell the small packet of dried flowers ladies often kept on them to ward off how smelly their clothes can often get. 

I glanced down at the dress she wore. This one was better and closer to a style I expected to see from her. 

“Glad to see you picked out your own dress today.” 

She growled at me. Pushing me away from her. I laughed. I asked her about her latest read. She forgot our little spat as her eyes lit up and she informed that she’d read 5 new books in the last week. 

Wherever does she find the time?

The second time I saw her was today and well...

-_R. Mills_

_ **April 31, 1788** _

I kissed him. 

I hope my mother doesn’t find out. She would be scandalized. “A lady must uphold a certain sense of dignity, and that dignity comes from protecting what makes her a lady!” She once told me. 

He was just so infuriating one moment, and utterly sweet and gentle the next. 

I am so confused. Today mother made me wear another dress of her choice. He mocked it. I can’t tell him that I agree with him. I cannot let him know that I hate this choice of dress as much as he enjoys making fun of it. 

The next moment he produced a little book. _Cecilia_ by Frances Burney. He knows I like to read, having caught me alone in various studies at some of these gatherings, with a pile of books. This time he caught me in the study at Elsa’s aunt’s house. Her sister, Anna had just arrived from Denmark and they were throwing a little welcoming party. 

I get the feeling he sought me out. 

Why was he trying so hard to get my favor? I know about his mother, Cora. I know my grandfather, Leopold once courted her, then chose my grandmother instead. I know Cora had grown spiteful about it. She often caused rumors and played games, causing my family to lose out on partnerships and business opportunities with some of the other families.

I confronted him. 

“Is your mother pushing you to pursue me?” 

That seemed to take him off guard. He seemed to struggle for words, an explanation. I huffed, thrusting the little book he gave me back at him. He frowned as he took it, I made to leave. 

He grabbed my wrist. That’s the second time he has touched me. 

His hands are incredibly soft. Softer than many of the other men my mother sometimes presents to me. He pulled me towards him, Cecilia held to his chest by his other hand. 

“I simply, rather enjoy bothering you, Miss Swan.” 

He didn’t call me ‘Little Swan’. 

I think I liked ‘Miss’ a little more. 

I remember reaching out, touching his face. His face was incredibly soft too. Smooth. Not one bit of stubble. He and I were the same height. He wears heeled boots, I have noticed, and I know I’m a little taller than he is, so perhaps it is good that I wore flat boots today. Maybe I will wear them more often.

I heard his breath hitch, and then I was pressing my lips against his. 

Soft. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how soft his lips were.

So incredibly soft. I kissed a man once before. I had not liked it because of the stubble. 

I may just have to kiss him again. 

-_Emma Swan _


	3. Chapter 3

_ **May 31, 1788** _

He-, no. Reginald, — is that even his, her name?— is a she. 

We were at a smaller gathering my mother came up with. It seems that Leopold, _Grandfather_, has decided on his picks of men for me to marry from the few that have shown interest and whose families will not oppose such an arrangement. Of course, mother invited some of my friends and a few others to make it seem as if this wasn’t a dinner for his picks. 

It seems my choices range from Walsh Ward, (He is not titled nor landed but has money invested in production and textiles.) Killian Hook, (His family owns a fleet of merchant ships. I have heard rumors that he funds some privateers. A nasty business, but apparently lucrative.) Neal Gold, (His father owns several gold mines overseas.) and Reginald Mills. 

Elsa and Anna were invited, as was Reginald’s cousin, Zelena. Robin too. I don’t know why mother would invite him, surely she has heard the rumors of the men he spends his time with? Maybe it was to add to the charade that this was a simple dinner party for me and my friends, even if—.

I am so conflicted. I do not know how to feel about the revelation made tonight. 

I am also terrified of what it could mean. I think I feel something for him-, _her_. 

I can never let anyone know. Not after the moments we have shared in private. 

-_Emma Swan_

** _May 31, 1788_ **

Today, Emma discovered my secret. 

I am so foolish. I thought I was safe, my corset was bothering me. I excused myself to the powder room, removed my layers, made to adjust it. I must have forgotten to lock the door. Emma barged in, slightly tipsy. (I had noticed she’d been keeping a drink close throughout most of dinner. Probably to make it easier to deal with the men her mother was throwing at her.)

At first, she was embarrassed, having walked in on me in a private moment.

Then her jaw dropped. Her eyes caught on my chest. It felt like forever that she stared at me. 

“You’re a-, you’re-, you.” She couldn’t seem to string a sentence together. I covered her mouth before she could speak any further. 

“Please don’t tell anyone.” I implored. “You know what they could do to me!”

Emma shook her head. I removed my hand. “I won’t say a thing, I can’t say a thing, not after we have-.” 

She seemed at a terrible loss for words. 

Dinner was awkward after that. She hardly glanced my way, though I saw her fiddling with her glass throughout. She seemed shocked. Her mother commented on it, but then she smiled and told her she was simply tired. 

I did not get to talk to her any further. She must be embarrassed. She and I have shared a few more kisses since our first. Moments caught up in private rooms at parties, salons, even a dalliance as we both attended a show. I have not really taken the time to think about them until now.

I am so conflicted. 

I feel something when she kisses me. She always initiates. I don’t know if it is because we get caught up in the moment or... 

I like it when she kisses me. She is soft, but demanding. There is something almost crass about the way she initiates and demands with her mouth. 

I know I should not feel this way. I play the part of the young lord. I handle my estate, make deals with men and other titleholders, I oversee our businesses and speak to bankers. But, I am not a young lord. 

I was born a lady. Made to play the part of a man after my father died when I was barely a year old. Mother raised me as a son, changing my name and papers to make me a son, training me and making sure I knew what to hide. How to act. How to keep up this facade. 

What I feel will be seen as unnatural. Emma probably already thinks it, now that she knows my secret. 

She is going to hate me, and never speak to me again. Or worse, tell somebody and destroy me. I cannot tell mother about any of this. She will have my head.

-_R. _

_ **June 14, 1788** _

_Dear Reginald,_

_Is that what I should call you? You have probably received mother’s invite to another dinner party by now. I do not know how to feel about any of this. What I do know, is you and I must speak, together. Privately. _

_I have arranged something, a little outing of sorts. _

_Will you join me for a ride? We can discuss what is happening between us. _

_Please join me at the little cabin with the willow outside of it on the Nolan estate for brunch tomorrow._

_-Emma S. Blanchard Nolan_

The Nolan estate belongs to Emma’s father. It was a gift to him from Leopold. Land and titles Leopold fought and paid a lot of money to get him, in order to make his marriage to Mary Margaret more legitimate. It also happens to be in the countryside. Since he was a shepherd, most of the land is used for sheep. 

Emma inviting me there must mean something. Her family does not spend a lot of time there, preferring the much larger Blanchard estate. She once told me she sometimes spends time alone at a little cabin her father had built for her on the Nolan estate. Her little getaway. 

This talk she wants to have with me must be serious. 

-_R._

_ **June 15, 1788** _

I did not see Reginald-, Regina she has asked me to call her, enter my little cabin. I was reading, as I often am when he-, _she_ finds me.

Brunch was all laid out. A maid helped me bring it all in. I dismissed her, not wanting to be disturbed or looked in on. I wanted to have this talk with Regina alone. I have spent the better part of the past two weeks thinking this all over. Her secret. The conclusion I came to is a little bit of a risky one, but one I am willing to take. 

She handed me a rather beautiful and bountiful bouquet of flowers. I set them aside and before she could speak, I stopped her. “Let’s eat first. Then talk.” 

I watched her as she ate. Her hands shook very subtly. She was nervous. We ate in silence. 

“Why am I here?” she finally asked. 

“I have a proposal.” I have been thinking this over. What we could do with this. How this could all work out for me and for her. It’s perfect.

“As you know, my family is having difficulty in getting me married.” I told her. “You saw all the available choices at the dinner party.”

I shook my head before she could interrupt. “They’re mostly merchants, I know, and they are all such awful men. I do not want to marry them or anyone, really.” 

“Why am I here, Emma?” She seemed agitated. She was probably afraid of me, since I now know her secret. 

She never called me that. I smiled at her, reassuringly. 

“I will be made to marry whether I want to or not.” I told her. “So, it is probably best that I marry someone with a title. Someone who, even if I sometimes can’t stand them, is still someone I still enjoy being around.”

She frowned at me. “What are you getting at, Swan?” 

“You and I are going to get married.” 

-_Emma Swan_


	4. Chapter 4

_ **June 15, 1788** _

She wants me to marry her. She explained all of it, telling how much she’s spent the past few weeks thinking this over. 

“It’s perfect.” She told me. I am titled. I have lands. She gets to keep from marrying a man who is unlikely to treat her well. Men who will likely only interact with her to bear them children. We both know my secret, we can both keep it well hidden. 

“They will want us to have heirs.” I reminded her. 

“We can easily tell them I’m barren. We can pay off a physician. Or even adopt an heir.” Emma had all of the solutions. This could all work for the both of us.

I huffed. “You realize my mother will love this and why, don’t you?” 

“I know, but I don’t care.” 

I had to see how much she means it. “We will have to share a bed. We will be expected-,”

“I know.” She took my hand into hers. “Reg-, what is it that I am supposed to call you?”

“Regina.” 

“Beautiful name. Better than Reginald.” I rolled my eyes at her, but I smiled. 

“Regina, I know. I don’t care.” Then she kissed me. I was so surprised by it, I didn’t respond at first but once I did, she deepened the kiss until I was near-breathless.

“Please say yes.”

“Yes.” 

Then we went for a ride to keep up appearances. Any gossiping servants that saw us would see us spending a day together. They would think of us as courting and it would get back to our mothers. I’d ridden Rocinante along to the Nolan estate. Emma laughed when I told her the name and began excitedly talking about books. I am unsure of how long we spent riding and talking, but it was rather lovely. We had a small meal under the willow tree outside of her cabin. 

If we can go on like this, I think we should have quite the pleasant marriage.

-_Regina Mills_

_ **July 5, 1788** _

Regina and I have been keeping up the appearance of courting for a couple of weeks now. Mother was a bit surprised by it. 

“Isn’t he a bit short and dark and... broody?” She questioned me after confronting me about the rumors of us spending time together reached her. 

“He’s very kind to me, mother.” and that was that. 

We have not kissed since our day at the cabin. I am unsure if it is because she wants to keep up appearances or if, maybe she does not want to anymore, now that I know her secret. I have indicated that I would like it but she seems hesitant. I want her to initiate this time, now that we are courting. 

I’m going to talk to her today and see how she responds. 

-_Emma Swan_

** _July 5, 1788_ **

Emma ‘dropped in’ for a visit today. Mother was only too happy to see her. When she learned of the rumors, she came to me, the largest, proudest smile on her face. She told me she was proud of me for being able to deceive “that little Blanchard twit.” 

“She is actually quite intelligent, mother.” 

She grabbed my chin at that, and told me, “Well, make sure to be smarter than her until your wedding night. By then, it will be too late.” 

Too bad Emma is already in on it. I smiled and agreed with her knowing we are the ones doing the better deceiving. 

Emma visited with me and my mother, drinking tea. I smiled at my mother rather smugly when she began to speak about the latest invention she read from a paper I lended her. “It is rather pleasing to hear a young woman talk about anything other than the latest fashion.” 

Mother excused herself after a while to ‘get some air’. I suspect it was to give us some privacy. As soon as she left, Emma put down her tea cup and moved herself closer to me on the loveseat we occupied. The way she eyed me had me nervous. She reached out, caressing my cheek.

“I don’t know how I never noticed you don’t have even a bit of stubble until we kissed.” She laughed, a bit breathlessly. 

I could hear my own heart thumping harder at her touch, at how she was looking at me so intently. My stomach twisted at the sound of her breathless laugh, she moved closer. I grabbed her hand. I tugged at my collar. The room was getting too warm. 

“Why haven’t you kissed me, Regina?” She asked me, quite suddenly. 

I was at a loss for words. She pulled away from me, frowning. 

“Do you not want me?” She seemed sad at the thought. I frowned. 

“You want me to kiss you?” I asked of her. “You—,”

I struggled to say it. I have been thinking for the past few weeks, that she would not want me to kiss her. That now that she knew my secret, she would find the thought of kissing me repulsive. Yet here she was, everything about her, the way she seemed disappointed at the thought that I didn’t want her. 

I reached out, pulling her back to me as I settled closer to her. “I’m going to kiss you now, Miss Swan.”

I caught her breath as I pressed my lips to hers. She responded rather enthusiastically, deepening it and— and sliding her tongue into my mouth. How crass! Yet, it felt rather amazing. She wiped a thumb over my lip as we pulled away, blushing. 

“My colour looks rather good on you.” She told me. 

It was my turn to blush. I did indulge in some of the makeups that were found to be acceptable and fashionable among men. I often wondered what it would be like to wear a dress or hat, like so many of the more fashionable women out there. 

What I would look like. She kissed me again.

“Take another ride with me at my father’s estate? Not tomorrow, we have that salon. But two days after?” 

“Of course.” 

I think I might be unable to say no to her. Especially when she looks so freshly kissed. 

-_Regina Mills_

_ **July 8, 1788** _

What an eventful couple of days. Regina kissed me at Whale’s salon. She pulled me into a private alcove, her hands sliding down my back. I’m fanning myself just thinking about the way she kisses. She has so much passion. I wonder if— if she has any experience? She is a bit older than me, (26!) and I have heard that she is sometimes seen with Robin & a few other young men on his ‘excursions’ into the underside of the city. 

Our meeting at the little ‘willow cabin’ as I like to call my little hiding place was, well, Regina seemed to be in a mood. I tried to pry it out of her, at first but then backed off when she snapped at me. 

She must have noticed I was upset. She asked my forgiveness, pulling me into an embrace. 

“Just a lot of pressure from mother.” She told me. 

“About us?” I asked. She didn’t answer, but I suspect that it was. 

I wanted to make her feel better, so I kissed her, and when her hands slid down over my lower back, I grabbed them, pushing them further down. She was surprised by this, but then kissed me more, pressing into me and perhaps we got a little carried away, petting and caressing. She stopped me as I made to remove her vest. 

“We should not.” She told me. “Not yet.” 

She kissed me some more before pulling away, dragging me away to sit with her and talk. 

We never got to that ride. 

-_Emma Swan_


	5. Chapter 5

** _August 9, 1788_ **

Regina and I have been officially courting for a few weeks now. Our parents seem to approve. Grandfather had Regina and her mother over for a dinner. Cora, Regina’s mother was surprisingly cordial. She is very good at pretending that she is not the cold schemer everyone knows her to be. 

Regina and I excused ourselves for a private walk. Regina plans to ask my father to marry me in a few weeks. 

We haven’t been kissing or doing much of anything of late. I am perhaps a little too angry with her for right now. There has, recently, been some arguing between us. We are not allowing it to hinder our plans but, I cannot help but wonder if I will be inadequate for Regina. 

-_Emma_ _Swan_

_ **August 12, 1788** _

Emma still will not let it go. Robin invited me a few weeks back on one of his ‘excursions’ into the city. At first, I was going to say no, but then I decided I wanted to at least speak to Ruby, and say some goodbyes of a sort. 

So I went with Robin. He found himself his usual ‘plaything’ for the night, while I went to Ruby. We talked for my allotted hours with her. She updated me on some gossip. I told her about Emma. She was really happy for me. Sad to see me go, but happy that I found someone I could trust. 

Emma found out about the excursion, unfortunately, and we have argued ever since. I have brought her flowers, begged her forgiveness, and tried to explain. I brought up perhaps not getting engaged and she threw a bit of a fit. She still wants us to marry, she just doesn’t know how to feel about me going out with Robin to pick up a ‘streetwalker’. 

She doesn’t seem to believe me when I told her that all we do is talk. That I provide Ruby with a break. She confronted me about past experience, because “You touch me like you know what you are doing!” 

I confessed that I did become curious about women’s bodies and so Ruby had a friend come in and showed me what to do. “It was purely educational.” 

Emma was not happy about that. I have been in a state of bringing flowers and apologizing ever since. 

We are going to meet at the willow cabin tomorrow and have a talk. I am hoping we can get past this, especially if I am to ask her father to marry her. 

-_Regina Mills_

** _August 13, 1788_ **

Regina met with me today at the little willow cabin. She’d sent a note with some flowers to meet with her so we could talk this out. 

When she arrived, I was reading a book she gifted me a few weeks ago. I had a pile of new books from her, all part of her attempts to apologize. 

She seemed nervous to be having this talk with me, adjusting her shirt and smoothing her hands down her vest. “We cannot continue on like this if we are to be married.” She informed me. 

Before I could speak, she stopped me with her fingers to my lips, kneeling, she took my hands into hers. “Emma, you must let me explain. I want to marry you, and I cannot have us going into this with you still angry at me.” 

I let her speak. She told me of how she met Ruby. Robin had taken her along with him, not telling her what they were up to. He seemed interested in Regina and a bit handsy. To protect herself from revealing the truth to Robin, she picked the first girl on the street that she saw. Robin then backed off. 

Ruby, thereafter, became her friend. She was the only other person besides Cora to know the truth about her. So Regina would go on Robin’s ‘excursions’ into the city to provide her a break. It also helped Regina to keep up the appearance of being a young lord, as it is almost expected for plenty of them to pursue certain ‘nightly habits’. 

She became worried when I was quiet, thinking about what she said. She opened her mouth and I shook my head. I paced, sorting out my thoughts. 

I told her that it was not so much that she did this with Ruby that bothered me. It was that she had that experience with the other ‘lady of the night’. She asked why it bothered me. 

“I am afraid I will not be good enough for you.” I told her. “I am inexperienced. On our wedding night—,” 

She hushed me with a kiss. “You are more than good enough for me.” 

She kissed me again, until I had to pull away to breathe. The way she looked at me, the way she wrapped an arm around my waist and caressed my cheek, made me shiver in her arms. 

“If you are worried that you won’t be good enough, perhaps I could show you a few things?” 

I hesitated, she let go of me. I pulled her back to me. 

“Yes.” 

She did things after that, made me feel in new ways that I have not yet experienced and I never knew how badly I wanted to feel. She removed my dress but told me to keep on my chemise. (I am so very glad I dressed simpler today for a day spent at the estate.) “We can remove it some other day.” She whispered into my ear. She removed her vest, allowing me to unbutton and remove her shirt. 

I smoothed my hands over the strange vest-like corset she often wore. I helped her to unlace it. Once her chest was revealed to me, she took my hands, pressing them to her. 

Soft. Again, so soft. The way she kisses is so passionate and filled with power. But the way her skin feels, the ways she touches me, are gentle and soft. 

The first time I heard her groan, I felt it reaching that place between my legs that often gets slick when I think of her touching me as I go to sleep at night. She cupped me through my underclothes, rubbing, speaking things into my ear that I am too embarrassed to write about. 

She brought us both, rubbing to a higher state of bliss. 

She held me for a time after pulling me toward the small bed I sometimes sleep on when I stay the night in this cabin. We may have napped a little. 

I really hope the servants do not speak of how late Regina stayed. It will not look good on us. 

-_Emma Swan_


	6. Chapter 6

_ **September 2, 1788** _

Today I asked Emma’s father for her hand in marriage. Mother held a dinner, inviting over Emma’s family. I asked if he would like a tour of the estate and he agreed. I showed him our gardens, pointing out the larger part of our lands where our pride and joy, our apple orchards, are held. We produce some of the best apple cider in the area. 

Through my hard work and well-made deals, I have expanded on our earnings. I am not a rich lord, but one that is modestly doing well. 

David was surprisingly knowledgeable. It seems owning his own estate has made him learn how to handle matters of management and money. He commented on my humble pride. 

“Why did you really bring me out here?” There was knowledge in the stare he leveled me with. 

“I wish to marry your daughter.” 

He grilled me a bit after that, it seemed he was trying to figure out my intentions and if they were true. I answered his every question as best I could. Finally, he nodded. 

“I give my permission.” He told me, very seriously. “If you ever hurt her, however, just remember who her grandfather is.” 

I nodded. Part of the reason the Blanchards are so powerful is that they are distantly related to the king. While it was ever unlikely they should ascend to that position, they were still powerful enough as landholders to make others wary of them.

“I will do my best to make your daughter happy.” 

He seemed satisfied by that. 

-_Regina Mills_

** _September 9, 1788_ **

We have released our engagement announcement and today, we are having our engagement party. Regina and I have had much to discuss these past few days. Such as where we are going to live. It is probably best that we stay at the Mills estate — we cannot risk my family learning of her secret. Mother would prefer that we stay at the Blanchard estate, “but what about when you have children?” 

Father has told me he suspects grandfather is planning a gift that will decide that for us. There are rumors that he is having one of the homes in the countryside fixed up. 

Regina and I have met at the willow cabin a few more times. Now that we are engaged, we are a little less discreet about meeting in private. Regina will not go any further than some ‘rubbing’ as she has called it and caressing of each other. 

Our wedding has been set for the spring. Mother does not want to have us dragging lords and ladies through the snow. Unfortunately, the delay means more time for me and mother to argue over my wedding arrangements. 

-_Emma Swan_

_ **March 19, 1789** _

As our wedding comes ever closer, I seem to grow more anxious. 

Not that I am afraid for our wedding. I could not back out now, not when Emma is only one of three people who knows my secret. Especially not when—,

I love Emma. I love her so dearly, even through these months of planning and arguments over flower arrangements and seating charts. We have been more careful about meeting privately since ‘the incident’. 

We were lying in bed, having just spoken our love and basking it at the little willow cabin when a servant disturbed us.. The servant knocked, pushing us into a hurry to rearrange our clothes and redress. Emma’s parents had arrived at the Nolan estate and they requested that we join them for lunch. 

Dinner was a terribly awkward affair after that. With Emma and I’s slightly disheveled appearance, I am quite sure it did not take much for her parents to figure out how we had spent our morning. David asked me to join him on walk despite the cold where he confronted me. 

It is not an easy thing to make a father believe you have held their daughter’s virtue intact. It is even harder to admit to his face that you both have, perhaps been getting a little carried away. Not too carried away but only just so. 

We have only shared some chaste kisses whenever we have seen one another. It is best if we hold off until our wedding night. I can last 13 more days. 

-_Regina Mills_

** _April 2, 1789_ **

Regina and I to be married today. She has whispered some things into my ear this past week about being ready to ravage me on our wedding night. (And a little something about a surprise she has for me.) 

Grandfather surprised us with a gift of his own at a party we held a few nights ago for our friends and family. He called it the ‘Swan Estate’ the house and lands he’d been renovating were complete, and he wanted to present it to us before our wedding should we choose to spend our night after there. The land was good for orchards, some trees and saplings had already been planted and there was a rather lovely pond surrounded by willows he expected we would both like. It is also close to the Nolan estate, I suspect he knows about our little getaways there.

It is a wonderful gift. We have decided we will spend our first night together there. Then we might travel abroad. My friend, Elsa must return home to take over affairs. We will join her in returning her to her home. 

This is my last entry. Regina and I are going to bury these journals we have been keeping, deep where hopefully nobody can find them, at least not anyone we know. 

Perhaps one day, someone will find them and read them and wonder at the life we have had, and the wonderful happiness we have shared. Particularly when our story should be an impossible one. 

-_Emma Swan soon to be Mills_

** _April 3, 1789_ **

Everything has worked out. We are married, mother thinks I have played a great trick and believes she has won. I have indeed played a great trick, but not on Emma. Never on Emma.

Emma quite liked the gift I gave her last night in the privacy of our new chambers. I suspect it will make our nights together quite enjoyable. 

Today we bury these journals. Tomorrow, we set off on an adventure of sorts. I look forward to the life we are going to have together. 

-_Regina_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Willow Cabin at Your Gate [Protostar Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482943) by [Dragoon23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoon23/pseuds/Dragoon23)


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